


Constructicon Creators

by SilverRayan



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-01
Updated: 2012-10-01
Packaged: 2017-11-15 11:01:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverRayan/pseuds/SilverRayan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grapple's horrible day takes a turn for the strange when he's abducted from a battlefield by his creators, who are determined to find him a "real" mech.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Autobots, roll out!" Grapple sighed miserably, transforming along with the others. Once again, his masterpiece was in danger of being turned into nothing but rubble, as Megatron had decided that he wanted it. The Replicator, as Hoist had named it, was able to use a confined beam of radiation to covert grass into a very low grade of energon. It was no wonder the Deceptifreaks were after it. At this point though, the little crane could hardly bring himself to care. Megatron could destroy it, and he wouldn't even flinch. He wanted nothing to do with anything that had involved Hoist, and that included their latest work of genius.

So caught up in his depressing thoughts he didn't notice that they had arrived. Optimus and Megatron exchanged their usual greetings and insults, while the others took up battle stances, ready to fight. Grapple hung back, disinterested as the charade carried on. The battle began as it usually did, with the seekers taking pot shots at mechs, Soundwave's little monsters causing havoc wherever they could, and... well, that was new.

The Constructicons had formed Devastator early, and were punting Cliffjumper around the battlefield like a human foot ball. Hoist, traitor that he was, immediately ran to protect his new lover from the towering menace. Watching his ex, a feeling stirred deep down in Grapple's spark. It swelled up, overriding his depression at the betrayal, temporarily, at least. Anger. Anger at the Decepticons, at himself, and at Hoist. Well, couldn't do anything about the second one for now, but damned if he was going to stand by and do nothing, now that he was filled with rage. Striding heedlessly towards the Replicator, he decided the best course of action would be to destroy it. The Decepticons wouldn't get his masterpiece, and he could get rid of his last tie to his ex-lover. He ignored the niggling little voice in his head saying he could never destroy one of his own creations.

Pulling out his blaster, he took aim at the machine, but hesitated to pull the trigger. He...couldn't...

'No, I must! For the good of the Autobots!' And for my peace of mind that horrid little voice added. Fortifying his resolve, he took aim once again, and fired. The device exploded, showering sparks and shrapnel down on those unfortunate enough to be close to the machine. Megatron's fury rang out across the battlefield as he called for a retreat. Ignoring the disbelieving looks from his fellow Autobots, he retreated back behind the lines. Moment of vindication over, he felt depression creep over him once again. Not even the look on Hoist's face could make him feel better, although the look of horror was rather funny. Until, that is, the shadow fell across him. Halting, he slowly turned, looking up into the face of the mech towering over him. Devastator's face showed an uncharacteristic compassion, even as he lifted his fist.

"Goodnight, Sparklet." And Grapple knew no more.

Grapple groaned as his systems rebooted. He came online slowly, trying to puzzle out what had happened. There had been a battle, he had destroyed his tower, and he could remember Hoist looking at him in fear. At the thought of Hoist, depression immediately settled in again. It was becoming a constant state for him. Well, more so than usual. Albeit, he had a right to it, he thought. After all, he had walked in on his ex-lover and the minibot going at it in his berth. And they hadn't even felt remotely guilty about it. Hoist had casually brushed him off, saying that he had "meant to tell him" but "hadn't gotten around to it". What had happened to change his jovial, kind friend into the slagger he was now, Grapple didn't know. Nor did he particularly care. He just wanted to curl up and hide.

Deciding to get out of the med bay as fast as possible, he onlined his optics, preparing to argue with Ratchet about whether or not he was ok to leave. Instead of the familiar orange of the Ark he was met with a deep purple color. Bolting upright, although his head throbbed in protest to the movement, he glanced around desperately. Obviously he was not home. Terror steadily growing, he could think of only one place he could possibly be: The Nemesis. How? Why? What had...oh. Right. Devastator. He looked around, taking in the fact that he appeared to be in someone's private quarters. That scared him more than he thought was possible. Swinging his legs over the edge of the birth he stood and began to search for a way out. At least the room was empty. Trying to keep his thoughts semi-coherent, and not focused on his dire situations he reviewed the events of the day.

'Let's see, I walked in on my lover in bed with Cliffjumper, was sent into battle and ended up destroying my creation, was knocked out by Devastator, and kidnapped by Decepticons. Can my life get any worse?' Ironically, at that moment the door slid open, revealing the Constructicon Scrapper. 'Why yes, yes it can.' The Constructicon foreman looked at him for a moment, optics softer than he thought a Decepticon's could be.

"I am glad to see that you are awake, Sparklet. We did not mean to knock you out for such a long period of time. Please, come with me." There was that name again.

'Why do they keep calling me that?'

Grapple followed Scrapper warily. So far he had said nothing, leaving the crane on edge. He was trapped in the Decepticon base, unrestrained, with a mech who kept calling a youngling. Grapple was scared, and more than a little confused. Trying to distract himself (and look for a way out) he noticed that he was being led into what appeared to be a shared living space of some kind. There were five other doors, presumably leading off into the other members' rooms, and an energon disperser was in the far corner. To his right there was a large door that likely led into the rest of the base.

"Please, make yourself comfortable." Grapple jumped. He looked back at Scrapper, who vaguely gestured towards the various chairs spread out around the room. "We are just waiting the others to join us. It shouldn't be too much longer. Would you like something to drink?" Wordlessly, Grapple shook his head. 'What the slag is going on?'

They sat in silence for a few moments, with Scrapper going over blueprints and Grapple trying not to look interested. From what he could see the machine was a complex one, but... it didn't matter. After destroying the Replicator, he didn't think that he even deserved to build even a matchstick tower. After all, he had done it for selfish reasons. Grapple sighed. Everything came back to Hoist. He had been such a central part of the young mech's life, older, kind and everything that Grapple had wanted in a partner. Before he could sink into his typical depressed state the main door slid open revealing Scavenger. The Constructicon flung himself across the room, tackling the stunned Autobot.

"Grapple! You're awake! Are you ok? Well, of course you are or Scrapper wouldn't have let you up! Oh, it's so good to see you again!" The excited Decepticon probably would have continued, but Bonecrusher wrapped an arm around his gestalt mate and jerked him off of Grapple.

"Calm down Scavy, you'll scar him for life." Looking at Grapple he smirked and said, "Welcome home kid."

"Home?" Grapple's voice was faint.

"Did you not tell him, Scrapper?" Hook's cultured voice spoke, a hint of impatience buried beneath the nonchalance. "No wonder the poor youngling is traumatized by this." Scrapper shrugged. It crossed his mind to feel offended at being called a youngling, but he was too overwhelmed to really hold onto it.

"I thought it would be best to wait for you five to get off shift."

"W-w-well, w-we should t-t-tell him now, be-fo-fore his processors cr-cr-crash. He's lo-oking unsteady." Indeed, Grapple looked as though he was about to fall out of his seat. They were treating him like, well, like one of them. Sure, he had worked with them once in the past, but that hardly meant that they thought of him as part of the team. He had thought that they'd used him. But, if he thought about it more closely, he realized that almost every time he created something, the Constructicons had shown up. He was rarely on the battlefield, but he was never seriously injured if Devastator was there. Sometimes he was knocked out due to what he thought was a lucky shot that knocked him out of harm's way. Other times he was taken out of the fight early with minor, but incapacitating injuries, like torn rotor joints. A nagging suspicion began to grow in the back of his processor, but he ignored it. It couldn't be true.

"Helloooo?" Longhaul's rough voice cut into his reverie. Turning to his mates the dump truck said, "I think we broke him. I suppose that means that flat out telling him won't do any harm now."

"No! We will explain this to him rationally, lest we risk alienating him!" Hook's voice was sharp.

"Um, explain what?" Having six pairs of eyes whip around to stare at you was unnerving, but Grapple didn't flinch. He was sick and tired of everything and wanted answers. Gently, Scrapper asked,

"How much did Omega Supreme tell you?"

"Tell me about what? Was there something he should have? That would be difficult, because I've never actually spoken to him." Brief flashes of outrage flashed across five faces, but Scrapper only said,

"That's not surprising, given the circumstances. Tell me, Grapple, have you ever noticed that, while you are a construction vehicle, you bear Omega's colours?" Grapple, having already been suspicious of this, did not take long to figure out the implication behind the statement. Without a word, he slipped from the chair, unconscious.

"Well, that went well," Hook's tone was dry. Looking at their creation, slumped over on the floor, Bonecrusher shrugged.

"Meh, could have been worse."


	2. Chapter 2

After moving Grapple back into Scrapper's room, the Constructicons gathered in the common area once again.

"P-p-poor Grapple. S-such sadness, such sadness there is in him. I-i'm going to melt that s-s-slag heap Autob-bot into s-scrap, I say, s-scrap!" Mixmaster was agitated, wringing his hands together as he contemplated Hoist's demise.

"Only after 'Crusher and I get through with 'im," Long Haul muttered darkly. "Slag sucking little bastard."

"Language, Long Haul," Hook corrected, but for once there was no antagonism in his voice. "How dare that insignificant little bot cheat on our Grapple. Perhaps, Scrapper, you could create a masterpiece from that coward and his little whore."

"Tempting," Scrapper agreed, "but I think we have more important things to worry about right now, such as making sure Grapple settles in here. Perhaps..." he trailed off, deep in thought. The others waited for him to elaborate, but when he didn't they went back to discussing what to do with the traitor who had broke their creation's spark. Even gentle Scavenger, who liked violence a lot less than the rest of his gestalt mates offered a few creative suggestions.

"Alright, you lot, that's enough. We can deal with the Autobot later; right now our priorities are helping him fit in here. Convincing Megatron will be easy enough; after all he is a Constructicon. We also need to help him forget that wretched Hoist, and I think I have the perfect plan to do so." The others quit bickering, intrigued by the look in Scrapper's optics. Some of his best ideas came into being while he had that look. Eagerly, they discussed what they were going to do.

***

Grapple was on edge. That was nothing new. He had been at the Decepticon base for a week, and was still learning their way of life. Decepticons, as a rule were a lot more violent than Autobots, and much cruder. They were also brutally honest. If someone had a problem, they would confront the other, beat the slag out of them, and then carry on as though nothing had happened. Being punched in the face was akin to saying hello for some of the Cons. Grapple did his best to avoid those ones.

As Scrapper had predicted, Megatron had accepted his presence easily enough, although Grapple was on probation. This meant that he could not leave the Constructicons' quarters without one of them, or one of Soundwave's pit spawn accompanying him at all times. He hadn't been asked for Autobot secrets yet, which was just as well. He didn't know any. He and Hoist, he flinched at the thought, had kept themselves pretty secluded from the rest. He thought that Scrapper and Hook were the reasons that he was not pestered for information.

Speaking of them, the first day he had been allowed out of the quarters Bonecrusher had announced to the other Decepticons that Grapple was their creation, had been re-wired by the Autobots, and if anybody so much as looked at him wrong they would end up in Hook's tender care. The fact that perfectionist Hook had been idly twirling a laser scalpel between his fingers, a look of malice on his face, had convinced most of them to back off.

All in all, Grapple had to admit that he liked getting to know his creators. He had been an orphan for so long that even if they were Decepticons, he was glad that he was finally getting the chance to connect with them. He got along well with most of them too. He had first warmed up to Scavenger and Mixmaster, who had been open, excited, and less threatening than the rest, but he was gradually getting to know all of them. It was a shame that Omega had never come forward, but the former Autobot supposed he had his reasons.

The Constructicons had made it clear that they wanted him there, and that they knew what had happened with Hoist, which was why they had chosen to act now. Before, he had been relatively happy. Now, he was a mess, although he was finding it hard to be depressed when surrounded by all these new mechs, trying to learn their code. It didn't hurt any less, he just thought of it less often.

The whole situation was surreal, but to make matters more complicated he would sometimes catch the others staring at him. Some would leer, some would become disinterested, but the Constructicons would glance at him, then someone else, and begin muttering to each other. The brief bits he overheard did nothing to clear his confusion.

"Perhaps Thundercracker?"

"Good Decepticon, but do we really want his trine to be around...?"

"The flyers are out then, and there is no way I will agree to any of the Stunticons. Or the insecticons."

"D-d-don't even j-j-joke about that." They always cut the conversation when they noticed him watching. Other than that though, life wasn't too bad. Because it still hurt too much to build, Bonecrusher was teaching him about Demolitions, and Scavenger was always happy to let him tinker with his "treasures" whenever he looked down. He wasn't happy, but at least he wasn't bored.

***

The triple changers were bored. That was never a good thing. Boredom meant trying to find a way to alleviate it, which usually ended up with loud interfacing or someone being sent to the med bay. Sometimes both. Today however, they had been warned (read threatened) by Megatron, who had some grand scheme in the works, that if they caused any damage whatsoever they were going to be slowly dismantled. While conscious. And fully aware of every little detail. Thus, they had opted to leave the base in order to try to find something to do. Currently, they had settled down on an abandoned strip of beach and were chatting (gossiping) about the other Decepticons.

"So," Astrotrain drawled, "would you 'face with Ramjet?" Octane and Blitzing burst out laughing.

"That psycho? No chance in the pit." Giggling, Octane asked,

"Starscream?"

"He's a hot piece of aft, but too whiney for my tastes. Besides, I think Soundwave might kill me." The other two laughed.

"Got that right Blitzy. Who would you 'face, given the choice?" Blitzwing thought for a moment.

"You seen that knew Constructicon? Grapple, I believe?"

"Ooo, nice choice, my man. He's definitely a hot piece of aft. Kinda shy, but those ones are always wild in the berth," Astro chuckled.

"Yeah, just watch out for his creators though. They'll kill you if they catch you looking at him the wrong way. They're rather possessive I hear. That idiot Runamuck went after him the other day. I think he's been volunteered as the Constructicons' test subject for the next twelve solarcycles." Blitzwing and Astrotrain flinched.

"Fool. Well, better him than me." Standing up, Astrotrain stretched the kinks out of his spinal struts. "Well, we should head back to the base before someone notices we're gone. Last thing I want is to end up in the medbay when the 'Structies are all on edge." The others agreed, and the three mechs transformed and took off.

Hidden behind one of the sand dunes, Long Haul and Scavenger exchanged smirks. They had been on their way back from procuring supplies when they had heard Grapple's name. This was an interesting possibility, and a possible end to their ongoing debate.

"C'mon, let's go tell the others." Transforming, the two construction vehicles headed back to base.


	3. Chapter 3

Blitzwing was nervous. He didn't know why. He was one of the strongest Decepticons out there, he shouldn't be afraid. He told himself this over and over as he strode towards he quarters.

'Oh course,' he thought, 'that would be easier to believe if I could see who's watching me.' Shortly after returning to the base he had felt the creepy sensation of optics watching him. No matter where he went, the optics followed. Any other day he would have tracked down the spy and beaten him to scrap metal, but with Megatron's warning clear in his mind he decided the best option would be to retreat to his quarters. He never made it. Out of the shadows a mech appeared, blocking his path. Before he could fully focus on him however, something struck his helm from behind. He hit the ground dazed, but doing his best to hit back. He couldn't see straight; something in his visual processors had been damaged. The mech behind him got a grip on his arms, pinning him down.

'He's a fighter, I like that. It will be good for,"

Another voice cut in. "I agree, I think we've got the right one," a voice muttered, to quiet to tell who it was. The first mech approached slowly, hypodermic needle extended. Blitzwing renewed his struggles, but whoever was behind his had him good. The needle plunged into his made energon line and slowly he slipped offline.

Blitzwing groaned. His head was killing him. He moved to cradle his head in his hands but found that he couldn't move. Startled, he jerked his hands again; only find that they were firmly bound behind his back. The metal encircling his wrists did not give so he gave up on that for the moment. Switching on his optics, he glanced around, and came face to face with Bonecrusher. He was quite proud that he managed to not jerk away from the invasion. Bonecrusher smirked.

"Sleeping beauty awakens. Glad to see. 'Cause me an' you, we gotta have a little talk." Blitzwing, unsure where this was going, was wary. The Constructicons rarely attacked unless they were provoked, and currently there was only one thing that they were concerned about. Realizing this, he relaxed minutely. He had had no contact with Grapple, and made sure that the Constructicons weren't around when he was gossiping with Octane and Astrotrain. Bonecrusher stayed up in the triplechanger's face, even as Scrapper began to speak.

"Longhaul and Scavenger overheard a most interesting conversation last cycle. Apparently, you are interested in our little Grapple, are you not?" Blitzwing tensed again. Internally, he debated how to best answer the question.

"Do not lie to us, Blitzwing. Answer with anything less than the truth and I can assure you that you will live to regret it." The 'changer shivered minutely. Hook was not a mech to trifle with. The cultured mech could be the most sadistic of the group, given his expertise with a scalpel, and his overprotective nature of his gestalt.

"A-An-swer the qu-question!" Mixmaster demanded.

"And don't you look away from me when you do. If you do, I'll snap your neck, kay?" A broken neck wouldn't kill him, but it would be painful, and the only mechs who could fix it would do nothing of he sort. Despite his nervousness, Blitzwing refused to look like a coward. He did not flinch from the threat, and when he answered, his voice was steady and clear. Looking straight into Bonecrusher's optics, he said,

"Yes, I am interested." For a moment no one said anything; then Bonecrusher backed off.

"Oh good," Scavenger smiled, relieved. "I was worried for a moment, but if you are interested, that makes things so much easier." Huh? For a moment, the Constructicons ignored him, talking with each other in low voices, while Blitzwing tried to figure out what was going on. Longhaul, surprisingly noticed his confusion first.

"We've decided that Grapple needs to get over that Autobot that betrayed him," Blitzwing was mildly awed at how easily Long Haul made the word Autobot sound like a curse, "and the best way to do that is to hook him up with someone else, that someone else being you. Now, you are going to teach him how Decepticons treat their partners, understand?" There was a subtle threat in that last word, but he paid it no attention. This had just gotten a lot more interesting. Nodding, he asked,

"What's the catch?"

"No catch," Scrapper answered. "Just some rules."

"The first of which is this: You are allowed to ask him to interface once. If he says no, then you will wait for a decacycle before you ask him again. You are not to pressure him or blackmail him into anything. Not if you don't want to find yourself in my medbay." Hook's smile was almost pleasant.

"Next, if we ask you a question, you slagging well better answer honestly and immediately. Or I will be getting a new demolitions partner." Blitzwing knew what generally happened to Bonecrusher's "partners". They generally ended up under Hook's tender care.

"You will treat him with respect, but you don't have to be an Autobot about it. We want him to learn what how real mechs treat their partners. However, if you traumatise him, well, I think you can figure it out. Grapple has had enough of that to last a lifetime." Scavenger said apologetically.

"We have no doubt that you have opportunities to see others. This is fine with us so long as it is okay with our creation. Otherwise, once you have gone out with our little sparklet, you will continue to see no one but him until he is finished with you. If you break his spark, we will break you." Scrapper's conversational tone was the scariest one that he had heard since he had awoken. No matter. Grapple had fascinated him from the first moment he'd laid optics on the young mech. That he had been accepted so quickly, even if it was due to the Constructicons' influence, and was so well protected, piqued his interest even more. And here he was, practically being told that he was to take the little crane and treat him as he would a partner. Pit, he even had permission to interface with him, should the crane be willing.

"We don't have any more rules right now, but if we come up with some, you better make sure you learn them real quick."

"K-keep in m-mind, w-we are the ones who h-ave to f-fix you if you s-s-somehow end up b-b-broken." Blitzwing nodded.

"I understand."

"Good. Grapple likes to go over the archives in storage bay 1. He'll be there after evening rations tonight. Don't worry about the Cassettes; he's off probation now, so you'll be alone. Don't be late." As Scrapper spoke, he moved behind the larger mech and released the cuffs. "Longhaul will show you the way out." Standing, Blitzwing followed the mech to the door. As he stepped into the hall, he couldn't help but smirk. The night promised to be fun.


	4. Chapter 4

Grapple didn't know why his creators were so insistent that he go through the archives tonight. The archives were a collection of every design, whether used or not, that the Constructicons had come up with over the vorns. Even their earliest works were there, although Grapple tended to avoid the ones like Crystal City. He knew that the others, especially Scrapper and Hook, were hoping that he would take an interest in building again, but he just wasn't sure he could. He missed it, there was no doubting that, but every time he considered building, well anything really, it brought back painful memories. He had finally gotten to the point where he could look at design specs without wanting to cry or break something. He hoped that maybe one day he would be able to pick up his tools again, but that day was far off. Still, he did enjoy looking at the blueprints stored here. They really were ingenious! Well, most of them, anyway. He really wasn't sure what the deal was with the purple griffin. There were blueprints from the Golden Era, buildings that had been works of art. There were the blueprints for the Golden Tower and the Steele Theater in storage container 12C, which were Grapple's current favourites. They were simply buildings, but their appearance made them seem very elaborate. Beams of metal wound around each other to create an intricately woven, but structurally strong base, with flexible alloys rising up and twisting to the shapes the specs called for, be it levels of the tower or balconies of the theatre. Absorbed in the plans, he didn't notice where he storage bay doors slid open.

"You know, it's a good idea to lock the doors when you're alone in the base. Someone might sneak up on you, otherwise." Startled, Grapple jumped. Turning slowly, he took in the massive form of the triple changer lounging causally in the doorway. He remembered the mech being introduced as Blitzwing, one of three triple changers stationed on earth. He let his optics travel over the other's form. He was well built, strong and imposing, but the cocky grin on his face made him seem less so. His purple and white paint accented all the right places. Overall, the triple changer was very attractive... Wait. Where in the Pit did that come from!? Obviously the stress of the past few cycles was catching up with him, if he was thinking such ludicrous thoughts.

"Thank you for the warning. Was there something you needed?" Unsettled, he was curter than he had meant to be. Luckily, Blitzwing didn't seem to take offence.

"Nah, just saw you come in here, thought you might want some company. Primus knows that there's not a lot to do here, especially when you don't have access to all levels of the ship." Taken aback, Grapple was slow to answer.

"Um, well, that's very kind of you, but, um, I'm sure you have better things you could be doing..." Seeing how flustered the young Constructicon was, Blitzwing cut in reassuringly.

"Don't worry about it. C'mon, why don't you come with me to the rec room? I'll introduce you to some of the others."

"Well, alright, if you're sure you don't mind." Blitzwing grinned. Perfect.

"Great! C'mon." He held out a hand, pulling the crane to him when Grapple hesitantly took it. Grapple gasped, pressed flush against the other mech chassis.

"Th-Thanks," he trembled slightly, feeling the heat from the other against his plating. His spark flipped over. Grapple tried to ignore it.

"No problem," Blitzwing let him go, making the gesture look casual. Inside, however, he was barely able to restrain he need. Having the Constructicon's body pressed tightly against his own made the triplechanger want to forget his plans to show the crane around. Instead, he wanted to throw him against the nearest wall and 'face his senseless. With an extreme strength of will, he forced his thoughts away from that direction – for now – and smiled charmingly at the dazed crane.

"Shall we go?" Nodding, Grapple allowed himself to be led to the door. He noticed that although he no longer needed help stabilizing himself, Blitzwing had not let go of his hand. Grapple decided he liked it. Blitzwing kept a firm hold on the little crane's hand as he led him though the corridors. The Constructicon was smaller than he was, nut his hand fit comfortable in Blitzwing's.

It didn't take long to reach the Rec Room. It wasn't overly busy, which was good. He led Grapple over to the energon dispenser, drew two cubes for them, and then guided the younger mech to an unoccupied table. The triple changer waited until Grapple was seated before sitting down himself. He got some weird looks, but he brushed them off. He was acting out of character, but he really, really did not want the rest of the Constructicons to kill him for less than perfect behavior. And for reasons he didn't quite understand, he found himself wanting to make a good impression on Grapple, reasons that didn't have anything to do with his psychotic creators. They sat in awkward silence for a moment before Blitzwing asked,

"So how do you like it here so far?"

"It's…different. Completely so from everything I am used to. That's not really a bad thing, but it's taking some time to adjust."

"Yeah? What's so different about it?"

"Everything here is so…loud. Someone is always yelling, or talking over someone else, or fighting. On the Ark, things like that land you in the brig, or at least on cleaning duty. Here though, it seems to be a way of life. It confuses me, to an extent.

"I guess I can see that. Autoscu… er, the Autobots weren't originally warrior class mechs, like up. The fighting doesn't mean much to us. Sometimes we fight for fun, or to blow off steam. You don't have to fight, but it's likely that at some point someone is going to challenge you, regardless of what retribution your creators might dish out." A brief frown flickered onto Grapple's face before disappearing.

"Yes, they are rather protective, aren't they?"

"Sure are. But like you said, you're not used to this. I'd bet my next ration their sheltering you until you learn to fight your own battles."

"I guess. I just hate feeling so useless." Blitzwing snorted.

"You're hardly useless. Pit, Megatron moved the entire army to capture your tower. He led the assault personally. Anyone who can build something that the Slagmaker wants that badly has more talent than most of the mech here. And despite what you may have heard before, we have more than enough grunts. Creative mechs like you are in a much higher demand. Your skills are different, but they're hardly useless." Grapple didn't say anything to that; he simply sipped his energon quietly. Blitzwing, sensing the topic was off limits, began to talk about something else. He remembered the way Grapple's face had lit up when he studied those blueprints, so he asked about the architecture of various buildings on Cybertron. As he had hoped, a beautiful smile lit up Grapple's face, and he began talking animatedly about his favorite haunts. Blitzwing was unashamed to admit that he didn't understand most of what the little mech was saying, but watching him speak so enthusiastically made up for it. Plus, his accent was very cute.

\----------

Optimus waited patiently for the last of his officers to arrive. Repairs were finally complete, and he now had enough of his officers functional to be able to start planning a rescue. Mirage had already been deployed for recon, but he had yet to report in. Optimus had hoped that the spy would have had some information for them by now so that they could move past the preliminary stage of planning, but he couldn't fault the mech for it. The Cons were tricky, and it wouldn't do to have Mirage end up in the same situation. He looked over his officers, noting who was present, and who they were waiting on.

Prowl had taken his customary place, seated to Optimus' right. Jazz had moved from his place on the left to sit next to Prowl, quietly discussing Mirage's planned infiltration route. Prowl was calculating the odds of success and the time he predicted the noblemech would report in. At least, that's what it looked like they were doing to everyone else. Optimus could tell that they were speaking over their bond about a completely different, unknown matter. Ratchet was at the far end of the table with Wheeljack. The latter looked sheepish, and was refusing to look at his friend. Ratchet himself was looking mildly homicidal. Optimus suspected that it had something to do with Wheeljack blowing up his lab half a joor after being released from medbay. Ironhide was sitting next to Ratchet, cleaning his cannons. They were waiting on Red Alert, who had commed to say that he was on his way. Sure enough, half a breem later, the door opened to reveal Red Alert, who was dragging Hoist with him. Said mech looked both confused, and as though he would rather be somewhere else. Before Optimus could comment, Red commed him, saying that he would explain it to everyone, but Hoist needed to be at the meeting.

"All right, let's begin. I have reviewed all available data from the battle. Here is what I know. At 0800 this morning the Decepticons launched an attack, with the intent on capturing the Replicator, created by Grapple and Hoist. For unknown reasons the Constructicons merged into Devastor without Megatron's command and specifically targeted Cliffjumper, and Hoist when he went to help. At this point Grapple fired a single shot at the Replicator, and I'm assuming he targeted a structurally weak area, as it collapsed. Megatron called for a retreat and his mechs obeyed him, with the exception of Devastator, who continued to beat Cliffjumper until he was unconscious. He then turned his attention to Grapple, who had been retreating. With a single punch he knocked Grapple out and then picked him up and launched into the air. That is what I know. What I don't know is why. Devastor acted alone, and targeted Grapple without orders. Does anyone have any other information, or any idea why he was interested specifically in Grapple?"

"I don't know anything about why they targeted him, but based on the description of the punch, the location the combiner targeted and the force behind it I can tell you that it was meant to knock him out with hurting him in any manner. They hit a pressure point with minimum force. It wasn't even close to being a damaging shot." Ratchet's voice was brusque and professional.

"You are correct. The Constructicons have absolutely no intention of hurting Grapple. I can say this without doubt. I will admit to being somewhat surprised that they haven't come for him before, but I suppose they left him alone because he was happy here. But something happened recently that made Grapple very, very unhappy. I haven't said anything before because lover spats are private business Hoist, but this has made it public business." Hoist very obviously knew what Red Alert was talking about, but he clearly did not want to say anything. "Either you tell them, or I will. Remember, my cameras see all. I knew about it before Grapple did." Hoist sighed.

"Grapple and I broke up. I'm with Cliffjumper now." At Red's scowl, he amended, "Grapple found out when he walked in on us." There were disapproving frowns around the table, but no one said anything to Hoist. They had bigger matters to deal with. Prowl looked At Red and sid,

"You claim that the Decepticons will not hurt Grapple. What information do you have to support this?"

"I know because a long time ago I worked with the Constructicons as Security detail for many of their projects, most notably Crystal city. At the time I called them my friends. As such I was privy to details of their lives that were not public knowledge, such as their bonding to Omega, which I have heard that they broke when Crystal city was destroyed. Beyond that, I was there when there sparkling was born." Jazz caught on first.

"Grapple's their sparkling, ain't he?" Red nodded.

"He is. He's much younger than most of you think. He was just barely an adult when he joined the Autobots. He's older than Bluestreak, but only by ten or so vorns." Ironhide looked at Red Alert suspiciously.

"If the Constructicons were yer friends, why aren't you passing them information?"

"As I said, they were my friends. My encounter with the Robo-smasher is actually what caused my glitch. I was able to fight off the reprogramming, but it cost me, and made me extremely paranoid. I was only subjugated to that because my former friends tricked me into believing it was for the Autobot cause. I can never forgive them for that. But when they asked me to look after Grapple, who at the time was very young, I could not deny them. They were not asking for information, or I would have told them to go to the Pit, but they were genuinely concerned about the health of their sparkling. So yes, I passed on information about him."

"That's how they knew about Cliffjumper and Hoist, and why they came for him now," Jazz said.

"Yes. I am willing to accept whatever punishment you deem necessary, but I could not, in good conscience, deny his creators information about his wellbeing. Especially when he was becoming dangerously depressed and no one in this faction gave a damn." There were different reactions to that. Some of the officers looked outraged at the accusation, others were ashamed, and there was a look or two of confusion. Optimus sighed. He would have to look into this more carefully. For now, though, he had a decision to make.

"Red Alert, this matter is under investigation. Until such time as we can come to a definite conclusion about your behavior and the circumstances leading to it you are to be confined to the brig. Jazz, as soon as Mirage reports in, we will go over the information. If Grapple is happy and unharmed with his Creators than we will leave him be. We cannot force him to come home if it will only make him miserable; it'll be his choice. If he is imprisoned we will begin working on a rescue plan. Dismissed!"

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It wasn't unusual for the Constructicons to spend the night together in their common room. Even if they were not interacting, it was comfortable to be close to each other. Scavenger had brought out some of his "treasures" and was currently sorting through them while Mixmaster had several datapads with various chemical formulas spread out before him on a low table. Bonecrusher had claimed the couch, and Long Haul was using his legs as a pillow as he recharged. Hook and Scrapper were quietly arguing over the blueprints of their next assigned project. So really, it was just a coincidence that they all happened to be in the common room when Grapple came home.

They all looked up as he entered the room. For the first time since they had brought him to the Nemesis, Grapple was smiling. It was small, but it was real. The Constructicons relaxed minutely. They wouldn't have to kill Blitzwing after all. Scrapper casually asked,

"How was your night?" He did not mention anything about the triplechanger. They weren't supposed to know after all.

"It was enjoyable. I met Blitzwing in the archives. He showed me around a little bit, and introduced me to some of the others."

"Have you eaten yet?" Scavenger wanted to know. "We can get some energon for you if you want.

"Oh, no, thank you. I already ate. Blitzwing got some energon for me when we stopped in the Rec Room. I have to thank him. I didn't realize until just now that he must have given me some from his rations."

"So'd ya go anywhere else kid, or just hang around the Rec Room the whole night?"

"Jus the Rec Room. We mostly just talked. Did you know he's interested in architecture?" Long Haul turned his snort into a cough. They knew damn well that the triplechanger was not at all interested. Or he hadn't been before he met Grapple.

:Well at least he's making an effort: came Hook's opinion over the gestalt bond. He sounded somewhat surprised.

"G-glad you had a go-od night, sparklet." Grapple thought about that.

"It was a good night. I like Blitzwing; he seems to be so much different from… well anyway, I'm tired, so I'm going to go recharge. Good night!" Grapple didn't run, but he did leave very quickly.

Scrapper grinned smugly. "He's considering Blitzwing a potential partner. We made a good choice." Scavenger giggled.

"He hasn't even realized that he was just on a date! That's so cute!"

"Do-on't expect-t him to f-fall for Bli-Blitzwing right away. He is still hu-rting, Mixmaster warned.

"Enough," Hook said imperiously. "We have an early shift tomorrow, and now that we know we don't have to go hunting we should also recharge. I will be most displeased if any of you are only at half function tomorrow." Long Haul and Bonecrusher both made faces at their gestalt mate behind his back, but Mixmaster began packing up. Slowly they dispersed for the night, each feeling very smug. Grapple would be just fine. They would make sure of it.


	5. Chapter 5

Grapple's days on the Ark had always been very structured. He could account for every breem of every cycle. On the Nemesis, the cycles flew by. Joors passed by so quickly he sometimes lost track of entire human days. He spent most days on the first shift, working with at least one of his Creators. Hook often requested his presence in the medbay, where he taught his Creation basic repairs. No one said it, but to be a Decepticon one had to be useful, and this gave Grapple a way to work with his new faction without having to fight his former comrades. When Hook was too busy to teach him, Scavenger often popped up. He would lead the crane to different parts of the Nemesis, showing him all of the oddball engineering quirks in the ship. Grapple loved it, and could study the foreign engineering for hours.

Sometimes, Bonecrusher or Long Haul would take him outside, on trips to gather supplies or test various weapons and bombs. Sometimes, they would challenge him, giving him a set of parameters based on the supplies collected or weapons tested and have him work out a more efficient use for the projects. The younger mech loved being able to talk about his passion with other who not only understood what he was saying, but shared his enthusiasm. He still wasn't very versed in chemistry, but Mixmaster never minded when Grapple worked with him. The chemist was eager to teach their youngling about his field.

Scrapper often included Grapple on small projects, asking for input and ideas, and allowing the crane to work on his own side projects if they could spare the materials. He wasn't allowed to work on any of Megatron's major projects yet, but that was fine with him. Weapons were not his specialty and he had no desire to create something that would cause only destruction. All in all, Grapple enjoyed working with his Creators, and finally felt as though he belonged.

In the evenings, after he got off shift, he often met up with Blitzwing. Sometimes they went to the Rec Room and talked over energon. Other times they would go to an empty training room, and Blitzwing would teach Grapple to fight. The worked on everything from sparring to down-and-dirty fighting, the likes of which Grapple had never seen before. Despite the brutal nature of these "dates", Grapple liked them. Blitzwing was hot, especially when he was standing triumphant and proud and out of breath (not that Grapple would admit that ever. But given him a break, he was a mech, and he wasn't dead). Sometimes they left the ship, either to go flying (Blitz's choice) or to look at human architecture (Grapple's). As Grapple did not yet have boosters installed to let him fly on his own, Blitzwing carried him. While he would never love slicing through the air, free of the constraints of gravity, the way the triplechanger did, the young mech had to admit, if only to himself, that he loved the feel of Blitz's powerful engine thrumming against him. That alone was worth the unease he felt every time they left the ground.

Currently, the pair was in the Constructicons' quarters. The gestalt team was pulling an all-nighter in the medbay, working on a project for Megatron, so they had the place to themselves. An old Cybertronian horror was playing on the vidscreen, and Grapple, over the course of the movie, had moved from one end of the couch until he was snuggled against the triplechanger's side, cringing and hiding his face against Blitzwing's shoulder whenever a scene got too gory. Smiling down at the adorable sight, Blitzwing shifted and tucked the shivering crane under his arm.

"Do you want me to shut it off?" Grapple looked up at him.

"N-No. It's fine." The larger mech raised a brow ridge.

"You sure? You're trembling."

"I-I'm fine. I know it's not real. That cheap set was shoddily made and it's almost falling apart. The Empties couldn't be more fake if they tried, and real energon is not florescent violet. I know that. So I don't know why this is getting to me."

"Horror movies do that. They can be the most cheaply made things, and yet still scare the slag out of you." A long, shrill scream indicated the messy death of a femme on screen and Grapple flinched. Deciding that if Grapple didn't want the movie shut off the next best course of action would be to distract him from his fear, Blitzwing leaned down and captured the smaller mech's lips. Stunned, Grapple froze for a moment, before relaxing into the kiss. He opened easily for the questing glossa, moaning as it swept against his own.

Blitzwing devoured his partner, loving the way those soft lips parted for him, allowing him to delve into the delicious flavor that was Grapple. The smaller mech moaned, the muffled sound sending a burst of heat through his frame, pooling behind his codpiece. Blitzwing roughly jerked Grapple onto his lap, so that the crane ended up straddling his companion as the purple mech's arms wrapped tightly around him. Throwing his arms around his partner's neck, Grapple groaned as the kiss grew more intense.

Blitzwing almost purred as he plundered the hot, willing mouth. The orange mech was tasty, and he clearly knew how to kiss. Glossas slid slickly against each other, tasting and testing, and getting lost in each other. They pulled back only slightly to take much needed breaths before diving back into the sensuous kiss. Neither was aware of the time that passed; the movie ended long before they came up for air.

Heat raced through Blitzwing's systems, and with regret he pulled back from the kiss, capturing that plump bottom lip and nibbling on it before he pulled away entirely. Grapple whined, and tried to kiss him again, but the triplechanger avoided it. Instead he leaned in and pressed a kiss to an audio receptor, murmuring,

"If we don't stop now, Grapple, I am going to throw you down and ravish you right here." Warmth spread through the younger Decepticon, his body not at all minding the thought. But it was too soon, both in this relationship and after his last one. Reluctantly, he slid off of Blitzwing's lap, allowing the other to stand. Deciding it was best to get away from the tempting little mech before he did something he would regret, Blitzwing pressed a light kiss to Grapple's lips before making his way to the door.

"When do you get off tomorrow?"

"1700."

"See you then?" Grapple nodded.

"Yes. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

The Constructicons returned to their quarters just before first shift. Grapple was curled up on the couch, not having gone to bed after his partner left. He had been too giddy. Instead, he had fallen into recharge watching a Cybertronian drama (he had had to wonder which of his creators had collected all six seasons of Sparks and Lies).

"Aw-w he's adora-ble," Mixmaster cooed.

"Wonder what he's doin' out here?" Bonecrusher frowned. "Wasn't the triplechanger supposed to come over last night? If he stood Grapple up..." Hook's optic band flashed.

"He better not have."

Hearing voices, Grapple slowly came out of recharge. Turning on his optics, he spotted his creators scattered across the room. He was surprised to see them; it felt like he had just gone into recharge. Checking his chrono, he saw that not only was it morning, he only had a few breems before his shift.

"Good morning!" The cheery voice caught the elder mechs by surprise. Clearly, their sparklet hadn't been stood up.

"Good morning Grapple. How was your night?" Scrapper asked. None of the Constructicons missed the light blush that spread across their creation's cheeks.

"It was good. Blitz came over and we watched Revenge of the Empties." Although the elder Decepticons doubted that was all the pair did, they left it alone for now. Despite their raging curiosity they knew that pressing for more information would only embarrass their creation. There were other ways of getting the information they wanted, after all.

"I'm glad you had a good night Grapple. You can tell us more when you get off shift. You don't want to be late," Scavenger smiled and pressed an energon cube into Grapple's hands.

"No, I don't. Thanks Scavenger." He quickly drank the cube, and said goodnight to his creators. The six were going to catch up on their recharge before the raid next cycle. He had to meet up with Soundwave and his cassettes; the Communications Officer was scouting for a suitable location for a relay tower that would allow them to connect to Cybertron more easily. Grapple's expertise with engineering had been requested, as the Constructicons were unavailable. Mostly, he was going to evaluate the chosen area for stability and a dozen other potential problems that could crop up during the build.

Despite running late, Grapple managed to meet up with Soundwave at the appointed time. The telepath said nothing; he simply got a good hold on Grapple and when the docking tower opened up into the world outside, took off, carrying the crane. Grapple mused that he really, really needed to get thrusters.

"Orders: survey landscape. Determine best location for relay." Grapple nodded.

"Yes, sir." Soundwave said nothing further; they had thousands of acres to cover, and the Third in Command wasted no more time with words. He launched into the sky and headed to the next area to be examined.

Getting to work, Grapple started by reviewing the tower plans. He determined the weight of the structure, the foundation supports, height and numerous other aspects he needed to know before he could find the appropriate location. It helped him to calculate the type of land the relay could be built on, as well as any structural quirks that could affect the construction. It would be terrible to begin building only to find out that bedrock or sand really wasn't conducive to the build. He was so caught up in his project that it took him several breems to notice the approaching engine. Figuring it was Soundwave returning, he paid it no mind. It wasn't until the sound was closer that he realized that the engine was too powerful to be Soundwave's. Looking up, he was surprised to see Omega Supreme on approach. Not sure what to do – should he run? Call for help? – Grapple had no time to decide how to react before the Guardian mech had landed in front of him. For a minor eternity the two stared at each other in silence. Finally, Omega spoke.

"Grapple: you are well?"

"I am."

"Query: do you know?"

"Yes. My creators explained it to me. Why did you not tell me you are my carrier?" Omega bowed his massive head.

"Reason: it was not safe to do so. Guardians: had many enemies. You: were safer not knowing. Then: the betrayal. Destruction of Crystal City by your sires. I: was too angry to see anything beyond my own pain." Grapple could have gotten angry. He could have screamed at his carrier for abandoning him. He didn't. Yes, he was extremely hurt. His carrier had been close by for so many vorns. But he remembered the stories from before the war, sparklings' tales about assassins and thieves who considered it an honor to murder Guardians and to plunder the cities they protected. For some reason, those stories had never really seems to be fairytales. Omega wasn't defending himself. He wasn't trying to make excuses. Grapple had asked why, and Omega had given him his reasons. Perhaps they weren't good ones, but they were why Omega had acted as he did. That, coupled with the regret he could see in the rocket's optics made it difficult for Grapple to be angry. Still, that didn't mean that the Decepticon was able to let go of his hurt, or forgive his carrier entirely.

"I see," he said, voice neutral. "Are you going to take me back?" He would fight him, if that was the case. He would lose, but that didn't mean he would go quietly. Omega studied his creation. Dropping his unusual speech pattern, he asked,

"Are you happy?" Grapple didn't even have to think about it.

"Yes." And he was. He had creators who loved him, a partner who he really liked, and he was finally able to work again without Hoist's betrayal hanging over his head.

"Then no, I am not here to take you back." Omega paused awkwardly, "I wish you well Grapple." Grapple looked at his carrier in surprise.

"Thank you."

"I will leave you now." Without waiting for Grapple to say anything else, the massive mech transformed and launched into the sky. Grapple watched until Omega was out of sight before turning back to his assignment. He wanted to get it done quickly (but done well, Hook would be angry if he rushed) so that he could get off shift on time. After all, he had plans tonight, and he didn't want to be late.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This chapter contains graphic interface. Please do not read if this bothers you

Grapple sighed as another training drone lunged for him. He had been in the training room for less than a breem and he was already bored. Sparring wasn't fun without Blitzwing, but his Creators insisted that he practice. One never knew when a random Con would attack, either over a grudge or from boredom. Normally he would have asked his partner to come with him, but Blitzwing was on duty. Scrapper and his other Creators were working on a project for Lord Megatron, so he was alone.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? A little lost crane, all on his lonesome." Surprised, Grapple turned to face the intruder. Deathshock. A rotary type mech who seemed to have a problem with Grapple's very existence. The crane was instantly wary. He noticed that he much larger mech was blocking the door, cutting off any chance of escape. Fraggit.

"Can I help you?" Grapple mere sure to keep his tone level and non-threatening.

"Ya just might be able to little mech. See, yer Creators and I go way back, and I thought I would thank them for their work during the Polyhex Invasion." The ugly expression he wore said that whatever had happened wasn't a good thing.

"Then perhaps you should speak to my Creators."

"Nah, I think they'll get the message just fine." Deathshock charged. Grapple threw himself to the side, narrowly missing the extended talons. Snarling, the black mech followed him, intending to crush the smaller mech quickly. Grapple, however, was used to sparring with Blitzwing and Bonecrusher. He knew to keep out of the way. Dancing out of reach, he thought furiously. Rotor blades were notoriously sensitive. If he could damage them he could buy time to maneuver to a position where he could disable his opponent. Grimly, he braced himself for the fight. He hoped he would come out of it alive.

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Scavenger giggled quietly. The drama before him was the best entertainment he'd had all groon! A breem ago, Blitzwing had come into the medbay with a fractured forearm. Apparently, a section of the lower deck had begun to corrode, causing the wall to fail. It was Blitz's bad luck to have been in that particular storage room at the time. He'd gotten out mostly unharmed, and Scrapper had taken the rest of the team to begin damage control. Scavvy had stayed with Hook to help keep the medbay under control. So now, here he was, watching the medic and triplechanger engage in a competition to make each other uncomfortable. Scavenger had to give Blitzwing credit; not many mechs could look blasé with Hook's 'I'm seriously considering dismembering you' glare trained on them. Blitzwing not only looked like he didn't care, he looked bored. Brave, for a mech whose life was literally in the hands of an overprotective creator.

In truth, Blitz was working very hard to remain stoic and relaxed. He knew pissing off Hook was dangerous, but he'd be slagged before he showed any sign of weakness. He would not be frightened off so easily. If the was a test then he was fragging well going to pass.

Hook was both irritated and pleased. The triplechanger wasn't backing down. The slagger actually had the audacity to yawn.

"So," Hook began, "things are going well with Grapple?" the medic's pleasant smile screamed danger.

"Very," Blitzwing replied, tone neutral.

"Oh? Any plans for the future?"

"We are going to see the Oregon Symphony tonight." Blitz knew that wasn't what Hook was asking.

"I was unaware that you like classical music."

"I don't. Grapple does."

"Good answer. Have you 'faced yet?" The larger mech was taken off guard by the blunt question. Astrotrain's loud entrance kept him from answering it.

"Blitzy! Your mech is fighting Deathshock! They're in the training room. It looks pretty serious." Hook, distracted though he was talking (read: panicking) to his mates over their bond, noted the glee in Astrotrain's voice and made a mental note to make the trainformer's next tune up exceedingly unpleasant.

Blitzwing stood, paying no attention to his fractured arm. He rushed out into the hall, followed closely by Hook and Scavenger. It took no time to reach the training room. The rest of the Constructions had already arrived and joined the throng of watchers. Even Megatron and Starscream were there, watching with appraising optics. Blitz could do nothing but stand there and watch his mech fight for his life. Interfering would brand Grapple as weak and unworthy.

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Grapple was getting fed up. Deathshock was stronger, but he relied on brute strength over strategy. Grapple was faster but he did not have his opponent's endurance. He needed a plan, now.

"Remember Grapple, there are always going to be mechs bigger, stronger, or faster than you," Blitzwing's voice drifted through his processor. "The trick is to use their momentum against them. Most mechs will commit enough force to their attacks that when you redirect them they can't immediately compensate for the change." His partner had demonstrated that by having the smaller mech lunge at him, easily redirecting his attack elsewhere. Grapple smirked. He would have to thank Blitzwing for that particular lesson.

This time when Deathshock attacked Grapple stepped in to meet the attack, slamming one hand into the rotary's shoulder and the other into his elbow joint, effectively stopping the attack. Moving swiftly he trapped the arm against him and elbowed the larger mech in the face. Dropping the stunned frame, he aimed a kick at the rotor hub, not caring that he was hitting a downed mech. If he didn't make a good impression now others would come after him. The sickening sound of the hub snapping brought him no joy, but he had to admit to the satisfaction that came with knowing no one would attack him again after this. Looking disdainfully at the prone form, he said,

"In the future, if you have an issue with my Creators please take it up with them." Calmly he turned and moved through the crowd of mechs, stopping only when he realized that Lord Megatron stood in front of him. The silver warlord looked at him for a moment before saying,

"Well done," and beckoning to the command staff to follow him. Grapple left the training room followed by Blitzwing and the Constructicons. He kept his head held high as he travelled through the halls to his family's quarters. His Creators had split off, heading back to the medbay and repair site, leaving him alone with his partner. It was only once he was safely in the room and away from prying optics did he let himself collapse.

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Blitzwing held mate's trembling form tightly, ignoring the pain in his arm. Grapple has performed brilliantly. Despite that, he was not, and never would be, a warrior. The past few breems were catching up with him, now that there was no one around to see him break. His frame trembled as the fear and exhaustion caught up with him. He didn't protest as Blitzwing guided him to his room.

They didn't speak, simply settled down on his berth, Grapple's back pressed tightly against Blitzwing's front. They stayed like that for a long while, with Grapple soaking in the heat and comfort that his partner offered. Eventually the tremors slowed, and then stopped altogether. It was then that Grapple noticed the energon that was sluggishly leaking from Blitz's injured arm.

"Blitzwing! Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?"

"Huh?" The triplechanger jerked out of his light doze, "oh, that. No worries. It's not bothering me." Grapple wiggled out of his partner's hold, tugging gently on his good arm.

"Come. There is no reason you should suffer for me." Frowning, the triplechanger snagged his partner around the waist, turning him so that they were face to face.

"None of that. You are important to me, Grapple, and I will not see you depreciate yourself." Grapple's optics widened. He knew, logically, that he was loved. His Creator's expressed it all the time, in a variety of ways. He knew Blitzwing cared. He often put up with Grapple's architectural babble, and went out of his way to make his feel wanted. But no one, not even Hoist, had put it in such simple terms. He was important. Truthfully, he had never felt important. There were always others – Hoist, his Creators – who were so much more skilled than he was. "Listen to me very carefully Grapple: you are exactly what I have always wanted in a partner. You are skilled, caring, and beautiful. I know that you might not see it, but trust me. You are perfect, and I never want you to value yourself less than others. I will not stand for it. Understand?" Grapple nodded.

"Yes."

"Good." The larger mech looked a little uncomfortable, like he hadn't meant to confess all that. He wouldn't take it back though. It was all true. Decepticons didn't do "love". And the ones who did were careful never to speak of it. Blitzwing had never felt love before, not even from his own Creators, so he didn't know if that was what he felt for his partner, but he thought it might be.

Grapple guided Blitzwing to the wash racks, searching for the emergency repair kit. It didn't take long to patch up the busted strut, although he would insist that Blitzwing see Hook to make sure that the repairs would take. For the moment, however, neither mech wanted to venture out into the Nemesis. Instead they returned to Grapple's quarters.

Blitzwing pulled the smaller mech up onto the berth, content to let the crane rest in his arms. Now that the fear of watching his lover fight for his life had faded Blitzwing was able to look back on the fight and admire how beautiful his lover's form had looked while engaged in combat. Thinking of how sinuous his frame had looked as he twisted and dodged and struck sent a bolt of arousal racing through him. Cupping Grapple's chin, he turned the Construction's face until he could capture his lips in a fierce kiss.

Grapple was more than happy to return the attention, lips parting to allow the questing glossa entrance. He keeled softly as his lover explored his mouth, delving into every crevasse. It was different from the kisses they had shared before, hot and possessive. Grapple kissed back with the same passion, glossa sliding slickly against his lover's.

Blitzwing let his hands wander over his lover's plating as they kissed, seeking out sensitive spots. Grapple gasped and writhed against him, arching into his partner's touch. He tried to reach back to touch his partner, but Blitzwing captured his hand and pressed it down to the berth. Grapple gasped as the kiss broke, intakes heaving as warm lips trailed down his neck. The gasp became a low keen as a powerful hand found his interface panel and stroked the warm metal gently. Grapple let it slide back, eager to have his partner touch him.

Blitzwing smirked into his mate's neck, pleased at how eagerly he opened for him. He stroked the partially pressurized spike gently, enjoying the sweet sounds he pulled from his little crane. Grapple bucked into his touch, trying to encourage firmer touches. Letting his own panel slide free, Blitzwing obeyed, firmly wrapping his hand around Grapple's length, stroking it firmly.

Grapple knew he wasn't going to last. It had been too long since he had been touched like this. Between the talented hand on his spike, the warm lips suckling at his throat, and the thick length pressed against his aft, the younger mech was drowning in ecstasy. When Blitzwing moved from playing with his spike to stroking the rim of his valve, he arched his back hard, mouth open in a perfect "O" as overload tore threw him. The energy from his overload lashed against his partner, who grinded up against his aft several times before following him over the edge.

The couple pay pressed together on the berth, intakes heaving, as they came down from their high. Grapple turned so that he was curled against Blitzwing, and pressed his lips to his partner's in a chaste kiss. They stayed there for a while, leisurely exchanging kisses before the triplechanger reluctantly pulled away.

"We had better get cleaned up now if you want to make it to the symphony on time." Grapple groaned, but pulled himself upright. He looked down at his stained plating, before looking back at his mate.

"Separate showers, I think." Blitzwing leered at him.

"Probably a good idea. Otherwise I might not be able to stop myself from ravishing you silly." Energon rushed to Grapple's cheeks, but he smiled.

"I'll be fast." Blitzwing nodded, before capturing the smaller Decepticon's lips in a heated kiss.

"We'll finish this tonight." Grapple ended up spending much more time in the washracks than he had planned to. His plating shone with a brilliance he had rarely bothered cultivating before, even with Hoist. But he wanted the night to be perfect, starting with his appearance. And when Blitzwing joined him, freshly waxed and elegant, he was tempted to skip the symphony and stay in instead. They ended up making it to the outdoor theater with only moments to spare.


End file.
